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Years ago I made a mix CD filled with lyrics about Jen, Jenny and Jennifer and sent copies to a few of my favorite Jens as birthday gifts. If I were to make a volume two Jenny compilation, this would be the title track:
How about that, you crazy Jens? I know you're lovin it!
Shit. Sarah just linked to me during an unintended blogging hiatus. I suppose that means I should put something up here. I've been growing a baby. And raising two others. And working. And traveling for work. And vacationing. And sleeping a lot. Hey, I also read a book. You should read it. I think you would like it. I'd like to read it again already.
I told Sarah in an e-mail the other day (or it might have been a month ago for all I know) that the first trimester of a pregnancy takes every ounce of creative energy that I have. It's true. There's nothing left for writing or crafting or coming up with whimsical answers to the onslaught of questions from the everyday life of a typical four-year-old.
But you tell me: What could be more creative than growing this into this inside your body within a matter of weeks? Nothing. And that's why I don't mind shelving my other creative pursuits while this little noodle grows into something real. Of course, it's never really real to me until I have a baby in my arms. Even now as I sit here in my pale blue maternity top, I'm not convinced that it's real. I've heard the heartbeat twice already at two separate OB appointments, and Robey continues to share the news with every stranger on the beach - yet I still keep forgetting that I'm pregnant. If it weren't for the exhaustion, I might truly forget. Or maybe it's the exhaustion that causes me to forget. Either way, I keep getting surprised when people notice I'm pregnant or mention something about my belly. Oh yeah, I think, they can see that.
The second time I heard the heartbeat, the doc says, "Fast one. Sounds like a girl." In responses, I say, "Nah, I'm betting on another boy." Then he back pedals, not wanting to get my hopes up, I suppose. "Oh. Oh, yeah," he says quickly. "I forgot you had two boys. It's just beating fast like a girl, that's all."
We'll find out in August, or attempt to anyway. My cousin Jeanie recently had a baby boy that they originally pegged as a girl at her first ultrasound. Beau and Susan opted for the surprise, and they got a girl, little Claire Marie who's smiling already. Can you believe that?
Have I mentioned that Robey calls her Claire Miss Marie? We don't know why. But you know he talks like a four-year-old, so it sounds like he's saying this: Claire Misery. That cracks me up. Poor Claire. She's stuck with that nickname already in our family. Just goes to show you that even the loveliest of names can beget cruel nicknames. So don't let the threat of schoolyard taunts stop you from picking a name you like.
We like slightly unusual names but not spacey, out-of-this-world names. That's a common goal, isn't it? To pick a name that not everyone will have ... but one that is, at least, clearly a name and not just some random assortment of syllables.
I had a dream while in Michigan that we had a baby girl named Miranda. Also, I had a dream that Marcy had a baby girl named Wood (No. She's not really pregnant. It was a DREAM. Stop making assumptions). It didn't occur to me until much later that those are both blog names. Christina just had a baby named Miranda. And then there's Wood. Can you believe it took me a week to put that all together in my head?
But like I said. It was on vacation that I dreamed these things. After a week without an Internet connection and weeks without posting anything here. And let's be honest. It's been months since I've posted anything of substance. Could it be a sign of withdrawal? A subliminal message that I miss this space? Maybe. I suppose I could resurface here for a bit and see how that affects my psyche.
Sweet dreams ...
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